Valentines
by PhantomProducer
Summary: A snippet of time, in which Steve and Holly find a moment to celebrate St. Valentine's Day with each other, their toddler son, and unborn child. A one-shot of the "Of Time" series. Complete.


****A/N:**** Another story for the _Of Time_ series timeline! Now, we get back to Holly and Steve, and their family, just in time for Valentine's Day 2018. This takes place a few months before _Darkest Before Dawn_.  
Just a reminder: this story is UNBETA'ED. This is mostly due to my personal schedule being a little different from others', and therefore harder to coalesce with someone else's. As such, I do proofread, edit, and restructure my own writing. I try my best, but I am not perfect.

I own nothing from the MCU, nor do I own any other pop culture references made in the text (Marvel comics, _Star Wars_ , etc.).

Thanks for reading, please review, and I'll see you all for the next one!

* * *

February 14th, 2018

The back door of the house opened, the lights inside snapping on as the little family entered. Steve Rogers, formerly Captain America and now Commander of the Avengers, stomped his boots on the back mat, the snow and slush of the northern New York winter falling away from them as he did so. His lengthening blond hair was speckled with snowflakes, his full beard as well catching a few between the garage and the back door of his home. On his back was strapped his shield, a gift from the King of Wakanda to replace the circular one Bucky Barnes had inherited from him (along with his old title). In his arm, though, was far more precious cargo: his year-and-a-half old son, Grant, swaddled in a puffy coat and snow pants, big blue eyes peeping out from beneath a hat to shield him from the cold.

Shifting out of the way, he made room for his wife to enter and shut the door. Holly herself toted a messenger bag, her coat unzipped due to the heat in the car having gotten to her on the way home. A vase filled with pink and red roses was in hand, set down upon the nearest counter. The slight swell of her six-month-pregnant belly was showing beneath her thick sweater, her fingers scratching along it as the door clicked and locked behind them. The overhead announcement of the AI, JJ, confirmed the safety of the domicile, and the pair of them seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

"So...I'm thinking frozen pizza?" Holly said, barely suppressing a yawn. It had been long day at the office, and the project she had been given by the archives department was still stuck in the sorting process. Her brain was fried anyway, due to carrying the baby, and she did not feel like she could whip up more than whatever could be heated up in the oven. Steve glanced over at her, tiredness in his own eyes and his head dipping in a nod.

"I think that sounds perfect, doll," he confessed, glad yet again for the simplicity and ease of the modern world. Granted, he knew that food made from scratch always tasted better, but there was little he didn't like about frozen pizza, particularly how fast it could be. Neither of them were up for a cooking adventure that night, not after full days put in at work and not with the toddler still to watch over.

"Daddy, down!" the little boy in his arms cried then, wiggling hard in his father's grip. Big blue eyes stared at him, little lips beginning to pull into a pout. "Wanna be down."

"Okay, okay, Grant," he conceded, lowering the toddler to the floor. Before the little guy could escape, he knelt and started to help him remove his coat. "Here."

Freed from both his coat and stumbling out of his pants and boots, the little boy toddled away from his daddy, making a beeline for the living room and his box of toys there. A yip and clacking nails resounded down the stairs in the front room, a flash of white and tan fur to be seen before disappearing behind the furniture. Bonnie, their corgi, was indeed awake and ready to play with Grant. The child was her favorite person in the whole world, and she always did her best to be around him. Grant took delight in her as well, patting her and even going so far as to gift her with some of his stuffed animals on occasion. Happy squeals mixed with the barks, and Steve leaned back on his heels, his tired grin growing as he pictured his boy playing with the small dog. Pushing himself to stand up again, he went to his wife, helping her out of her coat as well before kissing the crown of her head. The tiny, grateful grin she gave him was thanks enough, though she did kiss his cheek as well. A flash of discomfort came over her then, and she winced when Steve raised an eyebrow at her.

"Be right back," she murmured, one palm laid against her belly and the other going to the small of her back. Well able to guess where she was going, her husband nodded, setting her coat along with their son's gear by the table.

"Alright," Steve called after her, turning towards the refrigerator then. "I'll start the pizza."

He caught the thumbs-up his wife hooked at him before she disappeared through the arch, a chuckle rumbling up from his chest. Removing the first two pizzas (one for himself, and one to share with Holly, due to his advanced metabolism) of cheese and meat lover's, he started to preheat the oven. His own coat and boots were removed while it went to work, his shield perched atop all. Shaking the remaining melted flakes free from his hair and beard, he let out a soft sigh, eyes glancing over to the vase of flowers and the corner of his mouth curving. It was Valentine's Day, but Holly had insisted that they did not need to make any big, grand gestures to each other that year. Given how tired she was with the new baby and the fact that the holiday fell in the middle of the week, she did not see the point in trussing them all up for a night out. Nor could they justify leaving for the weekend, unlike last year (fond memories of the trip to Albany, of the nights they had spent just the two of them, surfaced as he placed the now-unwrapped pizzas in the oven). It was enough to merely be together, and on that he could agree.

Though he wasn't about to let the day go unremarked, he'd mused silently, gaze flicking over the roses once more. Just as he set the timer on the oven, he heard the creak of the squeaky stair and his wife's muffled curse, and he had to stifle a snort. She always hit that stair, no matter how hard she tried to avoid it. Shaking his head, he could pick up Holly's whispers in the living room, the rustle of paper, and his son's excited giggles. Pointedly, he kept himself from turning and investigating, instead waiting in the kitchen as little feet stomped unsteadily down the small hall and to the arch of the kitchen. Looking over then, he saw his boy holding a glittery, heart-festooned bag, red tissue paper peeking over the top. Widening his eyes and gasping slightly, he smiled at Grant.

"What's this?" he asked, stepping away from the stove and closer to the little guy. The toddler walked over to him, as fast as he could.

"Pwesent, Daddy," Grant said, beaming up at him. Sandy brown strands of hair flopped over his forehead as he bounced up and down, holding out the bag to Steve. "'Ove you."

"For me? Aw, bud, thank you," Steve murmured, sinking down into a crouch and taking the gift bag from the boy. The little guy surged forward into his arms, insisting on helping him open it. Pulling out the red tissue paper, it revealed the top of some wrappers. With his boy's help, Steve took out the whole gift, which ended up being a bouquet of different types of candy. Chocolate bars were perched with Reese's Cups, the 'vase' actually being blocks of Kit-Kat Bars and tied off with a pink, gauzy bow. Pleased to note that his occasional sweet tooth would be indulged in for quite awhile, the bigger man set it down, bumping the bag. A clink resounded, and his brow furrowed. Digging into the bag again, he withdrew a new watch. It was silver and strong, a Seiko with solid links (which was great, as the leather band of his old one had fallen apart), paired with a small key-chain. In the stamped metal, it stated that a dad was his son's first hero and his daughter's first love.

Choking up a little, Steve swiped his thumb over the key-chain before pocketing it and the watch. Looking over at the arch, he spotted Holly, a smile on her lips as she scratched at her bump. Grinning at her, he turned his attention back to Grant, the little guy having been occupied with crunching the tissue paper.

"This was perfect, son," he stated, planting a peck in the boy's hair. When Grant giggled, he tipped his chin up with a single finger, smirking sightly. "Did you have some help from Mommy?"

The last was said in a stage whisper, and Holly couldn't help a small giggle escaping her. For his part, Grant beamed at his father and nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah," he responded, patting his daddy's beard. Strong arms wrapped around him, Steve hoisting his son up and walking them both over to Holly.

"Thank you, too, Mommy," the blond man told her, leaning down and kissing her soundly. "Love you, both."

"You're welcome, hon," she replied, pleased that he had liked his gifts. The real clincher was the key-chain, she knew, but the candy would definitely be something he would gladly partake of for awhile. Placing Grant back on the floor, Steve circled back and fetched up his candy bouquet, placing it right next to the roses. Looking over at Holly again, he held up a single finger.

"Hold on."

Off her quizzical look, he merely smirked, quickly stepping out of the kitchen and through the arch, passing her and Grant. Catching the glint in his gaze, Holly shook her head.

"Oh, Steve, you didn't," she called after him, taking a few steps down the hall towards the staircase. "The flowers are enough, truly."

Amidst the various bouquets and gift deliveries happening between the departments at the base, Holly had been surprised to see the vase filled with pink and red roses just for her. While several had proclaimed the roses a sweet gesture from the commander to his wife, some had openly rolled their eyes at it. Todd, her coworker, had discovered that the naysayers had thought the flowers entirely unoriginal and too easy, that she herself had to be that way to accept them. Bitter old cows, she'd thought to herself. In his summation, Steve was not adept at romantic gestures, but she had contradicted him every time, knowing that his musings were patently untrue. And to her, the roses emphasized that; he was still trying, still doing what he could to show how he cared for her, and she adored it.

In the present moment, though, he was shaking his head emphatically, paused at the landing of the stairs.

"Nope, not for my girl," he said, the palm of his hand coming up. "Wait here."

Tipping her head back, Holly shuffled over to the couch as she heard shifting coming from upstairs. Not about to ask after his hiding places—it had never done her any good in the past—she sat down upon the couch, taking up a stuffed teddy bear that Grant had left there that morning. Grabbing up a plastic lion, the boy came up to her, doing mocking roars and laughing madly when she made her bear shake and shiver at them. Bonnie was on the floor still, gnawing happily on one of her chew bones as the mother and child continued to play. Soon enough, light footfalls came down the stairs, and she glanced over the back to see Steve returning to her. He sat down upon the couch as well, a pink and white gift bag in his hands. Shooting him a look, Holly could not voice her well-intentioned objections, since Steve held out the present to her and let his eyebrow spike. Taking it, she placed the teddy bear to one side and parted the tissue paper. A smooth, wooden case came to hand, and she pulled it out, opening it tenderly.

"Oh, wow. A real fountain pen," she breathed, grinning and carefully plucking it from its case. The brushed metal gleamed in the light, the gold trim bright and shining as well. It was gorgeous, and she couldn't wait to write with it. Along the barrel were two engraved words: My Princess. Her eyebrows inclined, and she glanced knowingly at him.

Smirking back at her, Steve merely inquired, "Some of the classics aren't so bad, right?"

"Exactly, Nerfherder," she responded, delight in her voice as she placed the pen back in its case. Peeking into the small bag once more to put the pen in it, she caught the glint of something else in the paper. Puzzled, she reached in, withdrawing a necklace of hers.

"My pendant got in here somehow."

She shot him a look,and he merely smiled back. It was true; the caged pendant Steve had gotten her for her birthday previous year was within, though she didn't know how it had gotten there. She had thought it was tucked away in her jewelry box atop their dresser, but clearly that wasn't the case. Shaking his head, Steve scooted nearer to her, running a finger along the edge of the pendant.

"Look closer," he bid her, and she did, her brow furrowing for a moment. Tilting it, she noticed the stones inside had shifted, a green garnet for her birth month and two rubies for Steve and Grant. And, also, another tiny stone had joined them. Noting the emerald that had been placed inside, her jaw dropped a little, her eyes misting a bit when she caught Steve's gaze. The corners of his mouth quirked, and he dipped his chin. "I know she's not due for a few more months, but May will be far too busy for us to make the trip to the jeweler just for this."

He had gotten their unborn daughter's birthstone for her, had likely done as soon as he could after they found out the sex. The mist in her eyes thickened, and she reached up, fingers brushing over the tickling hair of his beard along his jaw.

"Steven," she murmured, shifting forward and capturing his lips with hers. The brush of their mouths, the heat and emotion that still present after all the years they'd known one another surfaced, nothing able to stem the love and joy they took in one another.

However, they were stopped from going too far when a disgruntled squawk met their ears. Pulling away from each other, Holly and Steve looked down as Grant reasserted his presence, his small hand clutching at the seam of his mother's legging and tugging.

"Mama! Hungwy," he told her, eyes seeming to grow larger as he peered up at her.

"We'll be eating soon, bud," she promised him, fingers carding tenderly through his sandy hair.

"Otay," the little guy said, giving her a dubious look. Chuckling, Steve reached down, sweeping the toddler up and tickling his belly. Shrieking giggles poured out of Grant, his limbs twisting as his daddy kept tickling him over and over. Several minutes passed, and then the timer went off, the family soon loaded up with their own slices of pizza. Grant's high chair was brought into the living room, the little boy placed in it with his cut-up cheese slice and apple juice. Along with their own slices, Steve had brought in a bottle of sparkling grape juice he'd grabbed at the store a few days prior, pouring out some for himself and for Holly.

"Happy Valentine's Day, doll," he told her, clinking his glass against hers before stealing another kiss from her. A pleased hum reverberated through her before he pulled away, and her grin warmed him from the inside out.

"Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart," she replied. Laying a hand upon her belly, she shifted in her seat and stated, "She says happy Valentine's Day, too."

Steve laid his hand atop hers, bending and nuzzling at the swell, the knowledge of his daughter being so close filling his heart.

"Same to you, sweet pea," he murmured, straightening after a moment. Rising up a little, he pecked his boy on the cheek, too, not wanting him to feel left out. "And bud."

Grant giggled at the tickle of his daddy's beard before shoving a bite of pizza into his mouth. As Steve sat again and started to eat, the little boy looked over the edge of his high chair, catching Bonnie as she trotted beside it. Sitting with a sweet obedient expression on her doggy face, she tilted her head to the left. Grant grinned wide before grabbing up another bite of pizza and throwing it to the floor. At once, the corgi darted to it, snapping it up and swallowing before either adult in the room could issue a reprimand to either the dog or the toddler.

"V'l Day, Bon," Grant crowed, shifting in his seat and looking very pleased with him. Holly glanced at her husband, the pair of them biting their lips to stem their laughter. It may not have been the romantic ideal, but neither could deny the love shared that St. Valentine's Day.


End file.
